


Making Amends

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-30
Updated: 2006-03-30
Packaged: 2018-08-16 04:09:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8086603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: Archer wants to make it up to T'Pol for his behaviour while under the influence of the insectoid eggs. Missing scenes, 3.17 "Hatchery."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: This is an episode addition to 3.17 "Hatchery" and takes place right after the last scene. This story adheres to the canon set out in "Hatchery," but what occurred between Trip and T'Pol in 3.15 "Harbinger" has not happened as far as this story is concerned.  
  
Beta: Tami  


* * *

Commander Tucker was visiting the captain in his quarters. He'd come to explain to him how badly he felt about having to shoot him earlier in the hatchery. The captain soon put the engineer's fears at rest when he told him he would have done the same thing in Trip's position.

"It's time we got back on the road. I want you at your post. We're gonna be pushing the engines pretty hard. I'll be on the bridge," Archer said.

Trip was dubious of Archer's decision, "Aren't you supposed to get some rest?" he questioned.

"I've had plenty," the captain replied. Trip was not convinced. His friend and captain hadn't eaten or slept for two days straight before he'd shot him. He knew Phlox would be displeased if the captain returned to duty so quickly.

"I'm sorry sir, but Doctor Phlox was insistent."

Archer got up off the bed, "Okay, I guess I don't want another mutiny on my hands," he told Trip and patted him on the arm. "Tell Travis to set a course for Azati Prime, maximum warp."

"Right away, sir." Trip replied and left Archer alone to rest.

Jonathan sat back down on the bed and resigned himself to spending the evening in his cabin, with only Porthos for company. He stroked Porthos' head. Being on the Bridge was a more appealing option but he knew Phlox would hear none of it. He felt mentally and physically exhausted, but didn't think he could sleep anymore. He lay back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, wondering how to pass the time.

He reflected on the events of the last two days. Memories of his actions rose to the surface. As he watched the images replay in his mind, he remembered saying the things he said, and doing the things he did, but it was as if someone else had been in control. He'd been conscious of his behaviour, but it had seemed right at the time. It had felt more like instinct, driving him to protect the hatchlings and making that the priority. Of course now he could see he'd been under the influence of the neuro-chemical from the insectoid egg. He felt terrible about his actions, especially toward T'Pol and Lieutenant Reed.

He expected Reed to overlook the incident. Malcolm was the sort of officer to follow orders without questioning them, it was his military background. Archer felt a little sorry for him as he remembered how he'd relieved him of duty in front of the entire Bridge crew. He decided to invite Malcolm to breakfast in a few days to smooth things over.

As for T'Pol, he hoped he hadn't demolished the level of trust they'd achieved over the last two and half years in a single moment. T'Pol was the best first officer a captain could ask for; he relied on her implicitly. She'd been correct in this instance, and what had he done? Relieved her of duty and confined her to her quarters. He felt dreadful.

Surely she'd put it down to being influenced by the neuro-chemical. At least he hoped she would. He wanted to have a chance to explain, to tell her face-to-face, but was doubtful he'd have the opportunity. He didn't expect to see her until the next morning on the bridge. Hopefully the atmosphere between them would not be too strained and he'd get a brief moment alone with her to explain.

There were other things he'd love to tell her as well, but his current position as captain of Enterprise wouldn't permit that. Besides, those feelings weren't relevant to the current situation. 'Where did those thoughts come from?' he asked himself. Couldn't he go a day without thinking about how much he cared for T'Pol not only as his first officer, but also a beautiful woman?

The chime to his quarters rang.

"Come in," he invited eagerly. It seemed he wasn't going to have to spend the evening devoid of company. He propped himself up on his pillows and turned to see who was entering. To his delight, he watched T'Pol walk in.

"Good evening, Captain."

"T'Pol."

"I wanted to see how you were feeling," she said, standing at the foot of his bed.

"Why don't you sit down," he offered, pointing to his couch. She went and seated herself. He continued, "It was nice of you to check up on me. I'm doing better, thanks. I should be back on the Bridge tomorrow."

"I am glad to hear that, Captain. The crew were worried about you. However, you should not push your recovery," she stated with a note of concern in her voice.

T'Pol studied her captain. She'd never seen him look so thin. His eyes were tired with deep circles underneath them and his face was drawn. This was not the same man who had entered the Expanse over six months ago. He was so changed, and not just physically.

"I was hoping to get back to duty now, but apparently Phlox won't allow me," he said with a hint of disappointment.

"That would not be wise," T'Pol replied, concurring with the doctor. The captain was always overeager to be on the Bridge or perform his duty. She was well aware of the many hours he spent in the Command Center, even when he wasn't on duty.

"I suppose not."

"Have you eaten, Captain?" T'Pol queried.

Jonathan hadn't thought of food until she brought it up. He noted that he was feeling a little peckish.

"No, actually, I haven't," he replied.

"I could get you something from the Mess Hall," she offered.

"That's very kind of you, T'Pol. I wouldn't want to put you to any trouble."

"Not at all, Captain," she reassured. "Was there anything in particular you'd like? I could ask chef to prepare something if you have a preference."

"I don't want to be fussy, whatever chef is serving tonight would be great."

"Of course, I'll be back momentarily," she stated.

She got up and exited. Jonathan felt excitement and surprise. He couldn't remember the last time she'd paid so much attention to him. Then he sighed as he thought maybe she pitied him. Why else would she be acting concerned all of a sudden?

Before the Xindi mission they'd been good friends, seeking each other's company out and socialising in their off hours. She'd become his most trusted confidante, even more than his friend of ten years, Commander Tucker. However, since entering the Expanse things had changed drastically. He blamed himself though. Jonathan knew he'd pulled away from his friends and crew. He'd isolated himself and become like a lonely island in the middle of the Pacific, thousands of miles away from civilisation. He didn't talk to anyone, he didn't socialize anymoreâ€”he just worked. Eating and sleeping were optional when he could squeeze them in.

He hadn't planned it to be like this, but circumstances had required it. He'd taught himself to become devoid of emotion and to be as tough as nails, at least on the surface. He was no longer the naïve explorer, but a man trying to avert a war, a man humankind were relying on to save their planet. He and he alone bore that responsibility and it weighed heavily on him. He'd wanted to share his thoughts with someone, but didn't wish to burden the crew, not even T'Pol. Besides, there just weren't enough hours in the day to make time for those kinds of conversations.

He heard the chime to his quarters once more and guessed T'Pol had returned. He bid her enter. She came in carrying a tray of hot food with a glass of passion fruit iced tea. She handed it to him. As he took the tray from her he thanked her. "I really appreciate this, T'Pol."

"Of course, Captain."

She turned and was about to leave when Jonathan called out to her.

"Sir?" she questioned.

"Why don't you stay awhile?" he invited. As soon as he'd asked her, he regretted it. He didn't want her staying out of pity, and now she would probably feel obligated to stay because he'd asked. He felt foolish.

T'Pol looked surprised at the invitation.

"I mean only if you want, I didn't...what I mean is if you'd like..." He fumbled with his words.

T'Pol walked back over to the couch and sat down. "I will keep you company," she replied.

"Well only if you wish to, you don't have to feel obligated."

"I don't," she plainly stated.

Jonathan hoped she was being sincere. He'd become accustomed to dining alone, since he'd done so most nights over the course of the last several monthsâ€”on the nights he remembered to eat. However, since Phlox wouldn't allow him the distraction of being on duty, he didn't want to eat alone in his cabin and was grateful for T'Pol's company.

"I told Trip to order Travis to set a course for Azati Prime," he began.

"Yes, I am aware of that. We should be there in a few days. Hopefully our search for the Xindi weapon will be over soon," she returned.

"Hopefully." Jonathan knew the whole crew were as anxious as he was to get to the red giant and find the weapon. He guessed the mission was coming to a head.

Jonathan tucked into his food; it was very appetizing. He surmised anything would taste good if you hadn't eaten in over two days, but it seemed as if chef had made a special effort with tonight's dinner. It was turkey and it was succulent and tender. Served with it were mashed potatoes, brussel sprouts, carrots, and a side salad.

"Have you eaten, T'Pol?" he inquired.

"Yes, I had something about an hour ago. You seem to be enjoying your meal," she observed.

"Yes, it's delicious. I didn't realise how hungry I was till you brought it up."

They continued with light dinner conversation while Jonathan ate. During this time, he was painfully aware of how much he wanted to explain to T'Pol his actions of the last few days and ask her forgiveness. But he didn't particularly want to discuss it while eating, so decided to wait until he'd finished.

With his last mouthful, he wiped his lips with a napkin and pushed the tray to the side of the bed. He took a sip of iced tea.

"T'Pol, I need to tell you how badly I feel about what happened. Especially how I treated you."

"There's no need, Captain. It wasn't your fault," she explained. She'd had an inkling something was wrong with him soon after he'd been sprayed by the insectoid egg. Within a matter of hours he'd reacted to its influence, and her intuition had confirmed that something was amiss. She wished now she'd gone to Phlox first and had him insist the captain have a full body scan before things deteriorated to the state they did.

"Nonetheless, I feel very uncomfortable about the way I treated you," he repeated.

T'Pol could see he was uneasy and felt guilty. She wished to put him at ease and said,

"The matter was out of your control. There was nothing you could have done. You don't need to apologize. It was an unfortunate set of circumstances that have been rectified."

Jonathan wondered just how far he would have gone if Trip hadn't stunned him unconscious in the hatchery. He'd almost jeopardized the entire mission, providing the damaged Xindi ship with a third of the warp plasma reserves.

"But I'd feel better if I apologized. I'm sorry, T'Pol."

"Apology accepted." She hoped they could drop the subject now, it seemed to be causing him undue distress. She continued, "Captain, it would probably be best if you didn't think so much about this incident. Let us put this unpleasant business behind us."

"That's sound advice, but I need you to know how important your contribution to this mission is. You're a model first officer, an excellent acting captain when the need arises, and a very knowledgeable science officer. I can't imagine being out here in the Expanse without you."

T'Pol would never admit to being flattered. However, she took pride in her work and hearing his compliments was pleasing.

"I had hoped to prove useful when I first asked you to take me with you, sir."

He smiled at her as he recalled that day in his Ready Room when she had given him countless reasons why she wasn't looking forward to returning to Vulcan and how she'd become accustomed to life onboard Enterprise. He remembered his feelings of astonishment as he listened to her request to stay aboard and continue serving as the ship's science officer.

Professionally, he'd been pleased; personally he'd been overjoyed. When Forrest had informed him that Soval and the High Command were ordering her back to Vulcan, he'd felt an emptiness come over him. He'd taken for granted the fact that she was coming with them into the Expanse. He'd hated the idea of having to return her to Vulcan, but had accepted it and was beginning to come to terms with it when out of the blue she'd informed him she was resigning her commission from the High Command.

"I'm glad you convinced me to take you along," he replied.

"It seemed the most logical decision," she answered.

"True..." he said, a little absentmindedly.

Her real reason for staying had always nagged at him. She'd called it logical, but he was curious as to whether there was anything else that had motivated her to stay. She'd given up so much to come into an unknown part of space, without any knowledge of what they faced and what the future held. A few times he'd allowed his own speculation to run away with himâ€”maybe she'd entered the Expanse and resigned her commission to be with him? He usually chided himself afterwards for such silly notions. She was a Vulcan; logic was the very center of her being.

T'Pol noticed the captain seemed deep in thought. She was curious what might be distracting him to such an extent. She decided this was a good moment to bring up something she'd wanted to discuss with him for quite some time.

"Captain, since I'm here, I'd like to take the opportunity to discuss your general well being."

"Isn't that supposed to be Phlox's job?" Jonathan joked, looking directly at her. She didn't reply but instead raised an eyebrow at him. She knew it wouldn't be easy discussing thisâ€”he could be rather stubborn at times. Perhaps this was the reason she'd put this off for so long.

As she hadn't answered, Jonathan continued, "Besides, you already asked me how I was when you came to see me earlier this evening."

"Yes, but I'm not talking about how you feel right now or the after-effects of the stun from the phase pistol."

"Oh?" he queried. He wondered what she was driving at.

"I'm talking generally. I feel it is my responsibility as first officer to point out to you that you spend far too many hours working, neglecting your health along with your sleeping and eating habits."

He wondered if she was keeping tabs on him. Just how did she know how many hours of sleep he got?

"T'Pol, this is an important mission, that demands most of my time," he explained. He thought she would know that.

"I'm not arguing the importance of the mission. Do you feel you can adequately serve as captain if you deprive yourself of nutrition and rest?"

Jonathan was touched by her concern, and surprised at her directness. He'd thought nobody had noticed. "You've never said anything before, " he said.

"I never had the chance to. You are usually too busy or not willing to listen."

"Have I really been that busy?" he asked. He guessed he had. Days and nights seemed to fly past so quickly he could hardly believe it was January 2154 already, and that they'd left Earth over 6 months ago.

T'Pol noted he hadn't addressed her comment about him not being willing to listen. This was indeed the first opportunity she'd had to sit down and talk to him. Most of the time he was so preoccupied with the Xindi database, or scans of the Xindi weapon, that she hadn't been able to broach this subject.

"Sir, you're always busy," she reiterated.

"T'Pol, you're pretty busy yourself, " he interjected. "From what I hear most of your evenings are tied up with Trip," he added with a note of sarcasm in his voice.

As soon as the words had spilled from his mouth he regretted them. 'Where the hell did that come from?' he thought to himself. It was as if his subconscious mind was overriding the conscious. He felt like an idiot. What would T'Pol think? It was the last thing he wanted her to know, that he harbored some petty jealousy towards his friend for spending time with T'Pol.

"I'm assisting Commander Tucker under Doctor Phlox's orders, " she spat out, a little too emotionally she thought. Here she was trying to get him to listen to her about his health and he was bringing up neuropressure sessions with Tucker.

"I'm sorry, T'Pol. I guess I'm not myself yet. I'm tired and irritable," he apologized, still feeling like an idiot.

He hoped she would overlook this faux pas. He was very curious about her sessions with Trip, but was well aware it was not his place to inquire further. Of course, he wanted to hear her reassure him that there was nothing going on between her and Trip, that it was strictly professional. He could have understood a few sessions here and there, but from what Phlox told him, T'Pol had been performing the technique for almost six months now. He also secretly admitted that he wouldn't have minded being T'Pol's patient himself.

She gazed at him and felt something tug at her emotions. She cared deeply for this man and it pained her to see him in distress. His comment about the Commander had come out of the blue, yet for some reason her time spent with Tucker seemed to upset him. She noticed the sadness in his eyes and wished she could erase it. She got up and went to sit next to him on the bed.

"Captain," she began in a soothing voice, "I appreciate you are tired and irritable. I'm sure this mission has taken its toll on you more than it has anyone else. But I would appreciate it if you would let me finish what I need to say."

There was deep sense of caring in her voice, he felt it wash over him. It was immensely comforting. He nodded in agreement.

"So, you think I'm neglecting my health?" he questioned.

"Anyone can see that you don't look yourself. You've lost a considerable amount of weight since we entered the Expanse. Most of the time you look tired. You no longer eat with Commander Tucker or me, which leads me to conclude that you have been skipping meals. I believe this incident with the insectoid hatchery only exacerbated your condition. You went for two whole days without sleeping or eating."

"I've just had plenty of rest thanks to Trip's shooting skills and you've watched me eat dinner. What more do you want from me?" he asked.

"In the interests of commanding Enterprise, I would suggest you eat regular meals and take more rest. Perhaps we should make it a habit of eating together at dinner time."

Jonathan liked that idea. It would be reminiscent of old times. He'd always enjoyed his evening meals with Trip and T'Pol, discussing the days' events. A few weeks into the Expanse, these meals had become more and more a rarity as they got pushed aside to spend time in the Command Center.

"I'd like that, T'Pol. Thank you for your concern." Had he been so unapproachable over the last few months that it had taken being rendered unconscious by Trip for her to bring such matters to his attention? He was getting the distinct feeling that this was indeed the case.

"Is that not the job of first officer? To look out for her captain?" she asked.

"I'd say it is above and beyond the call of duty," he remarked. "I'd also like to think it was the concern of a friend."

"That it is," she assured him.

He smiled at her. Hearing her reaffirm their friendship warmed his heart. He'd keenly felt its absence, and hoped it could be rekindled.

"I've missed our friendship," he confessed. He suddenly felt like being very honest with her. Not totally, but as close as his captaincy would allow him.

"As have I," she agreed with him. He had been so distant of late. She had missed their late night chats over mint tea in the Mess Hall or attending movie night together. He was the one she'd grown closest to on the ship, she'd naturally assumed their camaraderie would have continued upon entering the Expanse. She'd been disappointed at the absence of his company in her off hours.

"I guess I haven't been much of a friend, have I?" he admitted.

"You have been pre-occupied," she agreed.

"I'd like to make amends. I hope you feel you can turn to me whenever you have a problem. I'd like to be there for you, as much as you have for me."

"You never ceased being there for me, Captain. I've been indebted to you for my life on more than one occasion."

She was thinking of the time he'd dragged her off the Seleya against her protestations. Then how he'd risked his own life attempting to remove the fallen bulkhead pinning her leg, when Enterprise had been hit by an anomaly.

She shivered at the memory of him being hit and thrown across the corridor and then lying motionless and unconscious. She'd never experienced fear to such a degree as she did at that very moment as she'd scrambled up and moved over to check on her commanding officer. She'd checked him for a pulse and then had contacted Phlox. Luckily, he'd only had a mild concussion and there weren't any other more severe repercussions from his heroic actions to save her. But that was the kind of man he was, self-sacrificing. Always putting his crew before himself, an admirable quality for a captain.

"There's no need to feel indebted, T'Pol. You've saved my hide enough timesâ€”let's say we're equal," he smiled. She nodded in accord.

"It's nice to see you smile," she noted. His smile seemed to light up his face and brighten his eyes. She found it pleasing. She'd always thought the captain a handsome man.

"It's nice to have a reason to smile," he told her. "T'Pol?" he asked sheepishly. There was something he wanted to clear up.

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry about my sarcasm earlier in regard to you and Trip. It's none of my business what you do in your spare time."

While he busied himself with the Xindi weapon, the database and commanding the ship, he didn't have time to think about T'Pol spending time with Trip. But at night when he'd try to get to sleep these thoughts would sometimes nag at him.

"Captain, you already apologized. There is no need to be concerned. I already stated my sessions with the commander are purely professional. Did you think otherwise?" she queried. Her instincts were telling her the captain was displaying a very telling human emotionâ€”jealousy.

"No, of course not," he lied. He breathed a sigh of relief at her admission.

T'Pol wasn't convinced but didn't want to push the matter any further. She had her own suspicions. At a more convenient time, when they weren't trying to save Earth and locate the Xindi, she decided she would dig deeper. She glanced up at the chronometer and noted it was late. The captain needed his rest.

"Sir, it's late, I really should let you get some rest."

He was disappointed she was leaving, but acknowledged it was late. He was also feeling a little sleepy.

"Thanks for coming to see me, T'Pol. I've enjoyed your company."

"As have I yours," she returned. "I'll see you in the morning then, on the Bridge?"

"I'll be there," he assured her.

"Good night, sir."

"Good night, T'Pol," he said and watched her walk out the door.

He lay back onto his pillows. He felt good. Something very positive had transpired. He'd made amends with T'Pol and felt a deep sense of relief at that.

He knew only too well he was in love with her, but couldn't tell her. Now he felt reassured though. The rumours about Trip and T'Pol were unfounded. Maybe when the mission was over...when they got back to earth...then he might tell her the truth. He didn't know what the possibilities were that she might return his feelings, but he could always hope. She'd come to see him this evening, acting concerned and caring about him. She'd forgiven him for his behaviour in the hatchery.

Even if she was just a friend...her feelings could always change. Deeper feelings...those beyond friendship...could always develop. With that thought, he turned the light out and fell soundly asleep, secure in that knowledge.


End file.
